Prison Talks
by flutflutflyer
Summary: Their lives have been broken, but they can try to mend it as best they can. Ignoring the tension will not save their brotherhood. Yet how can they speak about the woman they both love? Implied Makorra and Masami, one-sided Borra. One-shot.


A/N: I expected this scene to be in _Out of the Past_, and it wasn't. Nu, I decided to write my take on it. Lots of Mako-Bolin aangst. The quip about make-up versus status was inspired by a hilarious fanart I saw and could not _not_ reference.

Bolin's getting a bit jelly of Mako. Which is silly because he's usually on the peanut butter side of life.

Okay, okay, done with the silly jokes. Enjoy the aangst!

* * *

The prison cell can only hold so much.

He can only hold so much.

Their brotherhood can only hold so much.

Bolin's lying on the mat, his feet on the wall, musing on their situation: Two 'beds', a pan, and meals twice a day. It's not _terrible_.

He's been in worse.

But what is terrible is the feeling of silence between them, this space that refuses to fill itself with speech and instead is drowned in hidden hurt. Maybe being stuck in a cell together will force them to talk. Because he badly misses the days when they could say anything, _anything_, and it would be okay. Curious, he glances at his brother. Leaning against the wall, Mako seems to be counting something on his fingers, weighing his hands as if trying to come to a decision on something.

"So, what do you think Korra's doing?" Bolin asks, flailing with the need to break the silence. Instantly he regrets it: Why poke into the prickle that's driving them apart?

His brother's flat reply drives a larger wedge between them: "What?"

"Korra. You know, the Avatar? The one I have a crush on? Her." He's only digging a deeper and deeper hole. A flake of rust from the ceiling floats down and settles on his nose. "What do you think she's doing?"

"I don't know." Bolin can hear the pain in his voice, and his brotherly instincts tell him Mako is struggling to speak around the lump in his throat and the twisted knot in his innards. "Fighting Equalists. Getting us out of prison. Or she could've forgotten us already."

He sits up abruptly, his mouth hanging open. "Forgotten us? How could you say that? Korra's the most amazing person _ever_. She'd never leave us. She'll come back for us. I know she will."

"Stop." Mako rubs his arms, a universe gesture for grief. "Stop talking about her."

"Why?" Brushing the dust from his shirt, Bolin slips off of the mat and stands up, cocking his head inquisitively and catching his brother's eye.

He breathes out a sigh of flames, embers licking the corners of his mouth. "Because, Bo, of reasons. I don't want to talk about her." Pausing for a moment, he inhales again as though remembering something. "Or Asami."

Something tightens in Bolin's chest. "Oh, Ma-_ko_, what's wrong?" He wishes he could pace, appear more intimidating like that, but the length of the cell is far too small. "Don't want to talk about your girlfriend? Or Asami?"

His brother's eyes narrow, the amber glinting dangerously as he spins around to glare at Bolin with such fury that the latter takes a step back, raising his arms defensively. "I said _stop_. Bo, you don't know what you're talking about, okay? I'm dating _Asami_. I don't like Korra."

"You don't know what _you're_ talking about," he shoots back, anger spurring him forward. "I like Korra, and instead of telling her to go with me, you keep giving her hints."

His brother stares at him, incredulous. "_Hints_?"

Exasperated, Bolin throws his arms into the air. "Yes, _hints_," he repeats, ire building, a beast erupting in his chest, uncoiling and hissing, commanding him to push the envelope until it tears. "I don't know. A warm smile, that little touching thing you did in the satomobile—"

"_Touching thing_?"

"—all those _hints_ that you like her after all." Bolin knows he shouldn't be saying this, not with their brotherhood already hanging by a thin and delicate thread, but it's ripping him apart, the conflict at last reached its peak, swelling to a crescendo before the grand finale. "Are you with Asami or not? 'Cause at this point I really don't know."

Mako tries to interject: "Bolin. I didn't give any hints. I'm just her friend."

"Actions speak louder than words," he answers darkly, frustrated with his brother's inability to see the light of reason. "I get what you're doing. Opportunist. I get it. You're keeping options open, right? Even if things don't work out with Asami, you've got Korra. And if Korra doesn't fit you, you've got Asami. What are you deciding? Money and make-up versus Avatar-status and breast-size?" The words leave his mouth like daggers before he can stop them, the beast in his chest roaring with rage. "You just have to keep them both interested." He slams his fist against the wall, the metal denting. His brother's eyes widen, and he walks forward towards Bolin, his arms open to offer a hug. Bolin moves away. "So what, I get to wait in the wings and pick up the scraps? I have to sit around and see whichever one you _don't_ choose and then go for her? I'm tired of living in your shadow, bro."

Putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, Mako squeezes gently. "Bo, you're not living in my shadow. You're my brother. So Korra doesn't like you the way you like her. That's not a big deal; you can find another girl."

"I've always lived in your shadow. In life? You're the one who protected me; what did I ever do except lounge around and ask for dinner? You have the _scarf_. I don't have _anything_ beyond what you tell me. In bending? You're a lightning generator. You're the team _captain_." He imitates Korra's awe. "You're Mr Hat Trick!" Half-sadly now he gazes at Mako, wondering what his emerald eyes reveals, voice barely above a whisper. "And in love, too. Picking up your scraps. Sure, bro. But you don't have a right to play Korra and Asami like that. You're going to have to make a decision." Exhausted, spent, everything he has out in the air, he wavers, his legs about to collapse under him.

Almost ashamed, Mako looks away, tugging his precious scarf. "Bo, stop. We're brothers. We'll get through this mess."

"Yeah." Bolin slumps down to the mat, the beast in his chest consumed in its own fire, leaving nothing but ash. "That's what you said last time."


End file.
